Wednesday, April 1, 2009

The METHod to my madness.

So here I am and as promised I will indeed wrap this bitch up, with a ribbon even. It has taken longer than I intended, mainly because I'm a lazy cunt. It might have been the H that distracted me but I'm thinkin naaah, I'm just a horribly unmotivated layabout and I was too occupied doing nothing to get my ass on here and finish this shit.
So anyway, here goes:
Adrian somehow managed to lick all the meth residue off the spoon without vomiting and we bid farewell to Sammi and her bathroom. I tried to talk her into coming with us but she decided against girl. We hit the long road to Cuba, jumping on Bloomfield HWY and taking it to the Regina (rhymes with vagina),junction. Coincidentally this is the same way you get to Espanola. R-man decided that he was gonna ride in the back with Maniac, leaving me to drive with Adrian riding shotgun. He played DJ with the Cds and we were zooming down those crazy-twisty country roads listening to The Damned and Cocksparrer. There was an occasional protest from Maniac who would just as soon have chucked the stereo out the window as listen to our playlist but I just turned it up louder and drowned him out.
I was taking those roads at about 80mph, ignoring the fact that the posted speed limit was never over 40. If someone else had been driving I would have been shitting my pants but since it was me behind the wheel, I had no problems whatsoever. The windows were cracked but it did little to lessen the overwhelming cloud of cryssy that was billowing from the backseat. I gave up on trying to ingest a satisfactory amount of nicotine through the usual methods and began snapping the filters off my Marlboro's and sucking them down that way. It was much more effective but the yellow tar stains on my fingers haven't yet faded and are not very pretty to look at.
We rolled into Cuba much sooner than expected and cruised over to Loco's house. Joker answered the door and just like last time, there were crackheads in varying states of dementia littering the scene. The house smelled like sweaty socks toasting over Brillo and I remember having the overwhelming urge to vomit....quickly followed by the urge to bang another issue of speed. My reasoning was that at least if I puked after the shot, I would be way too wired to give one single, solitary fuck.
Loco had sidled up behind me and put his hands my shoulders, kneading me with his fingers in some parody of a massage. It didn't hurt exactly, it was more irritating than anything else. I get to a point where I'm so geeked that the slightest touch makes my skin crawl and I had passed that point looooong before we walked through the door. Adrian had tried to take my arm when we got out of the truck and I about bit his head off. I'm fine as long as you don't touch me.
Casey can touch me but that is a different kind of touch altogether and he knows how to use that super tingly skin sensitivity to his (and my) advantage. Basically, if you aren't someone I'm planning to fuck in the next 60 seconds, you need to keep your mitts off my person. It's unusual for me to get quite this fucked up but Rainman had outdone himself and the latest batch was INSANE!!!
I had to clench my fists in a serious effort to keep from clocking Loco in the head and then slithered out from under his hands. I was trying very hard to be pleasant and it just about killed me, all I wanted was to adjourn to the back bedroom so I could do my shot and smoke my filter-less cigs. I smiled and nodded and made some agreeable sounding noises until Joker asked if I needed to do a hit. I could have kissed him! For obvious reasons, I was not my usual charming self. My clever repartee was noticeably absent and I may as well have been mute for all the good my vocal cords were doing me.
I think I gave Joker a grateful smile but I could've snarled at him for all I know, I was so not in control of myself at that moment. It doesn't really make sense but it was like I needed to go faster in order to calm down. I needed to jolt myself back to....myself. I followed Joker to the back bedroom, Ade trailing behind me and Loco giving us the stink eye. I think he would have come along as well if he hadn't had business to attend to. R-man was waiting in the kitchen and product was ready to be distributed.
We went into the same room as the last time I was there and Jokes left to grab us some water and a spoon. I ignored Adrian and went about setting up my shooting station, cotton..ahem...cig filter...check! New point...check! Adorable but rapidly becoming an annoyance junky kid....check! Now all I needed was for Joker to hurry his ass up...check!
I fixed up enough for the two of us, waved away Ade's belt and had Jokes hold off my ankle instead. I was too self involved to care about the kicked puppy look being sent in my direction, I stuck myself and dug around. My feet were like ice and I was having a hell of a time finding anything. When I did manage to get one, it was so small that it burned like hell and I had to go super slow, I could see the vein expanding every time I pushed a bit in.
It came on in stages but when it was all in, it hit me like a revelation. I heard Joker talking to me but it sounded like he was underwater. I felt like I was moving in slow motion and it took a painfully long time for me to pull a cigarette out of my pack. Ade lit it for me and the flame looked like a strobe, it was like my eyes were vibrating in their sockets.
I may have stopped breathing for a couple minutes because it seemed like forever before I took one huge gasping breath....and everything was fine. The room came into sharp focus and aside from being really AWAKE I was back to being myself. This was further proven when I saw Jokes and Adrian gaping at me like retards and after taking a leisurely drag off my smoke I drawled," Shut your mouths bitches, you're drawing flies. Haven't you ever seen a lady smoke a cigarette before?"
They shut their traps and went about their business, I think it was a wise choice on their part.
We were just getting ready to go back out to the living room when Loco put in an appearance. Lovely! Even though I had been restored to my former glory, I was in NO mood to deal with this cholo fuckwit. I could see that look in his eye and I suddenly became desperate to avoid spending any alone time with him. Captain Save a Ho was about to try and come to my rescue and I wanted NO part of it! The thought of having to sit through another of his ridiculous (one sided) heart to hearts made me physically ill. Grasping at this flimsy yet timely straw, I pushed past him, mumbling something about the bathroom and impending puke-age.
I spent a goodly amount of time in the john, chain smoking and applying nail polish, I even did my toes. At some point Maniac talked his way through the door and kept me entertained/annoyed with a running commentary on the Adrian/Loco/me situation. I swear that motherfucker missed his calling as a gossip columnist. Had he been born earlier, Maniac could put Louella Parsons to shame! If you don't know who Lolly Parsons is, I'm not gonna tell you, google that shit and learn something. There is no knowledge like useless knowledge, especially as it relates to the last 100 years of American film/pop culture history.
Anyway, I sweet talked Maniac into letting me polish his fingernails, which was no easy feat. I did it while he babbled away, only stopping long enough for him to hit his pipe. I even managed three coats! There is nothing quite like seeing a wannabe tough guy, lousy with prison tats...and "Harlot Scarlet" fingernails hahahaha. I took that pic shortly afterwards and he still had remnants of polish staining his nails. He tried to get it off with rubbing alcohol but it didn't really do the trick. Three coats motherfucker! I think he was more upset because it was red haha, oh those homies and their color prejudice!
So we left before Loco could corner me and headed back home. The drive was pretty uneventful except for the fact that the road was littered with roadkill skunks, not the most pleasant of aromas. We got to Rainman's trailer home at an ungodly hour of the morning and the boys did some random puttering about while I sat in the living room and hit Maniac's pipe.
It took awhile but Adrian eventually came to keep me company and then followed me into R-man's bedroom. I did another bracer aka giant issue of cryysy and was trying to get online and do something update my blog. He made that next to impossible, as is evidenced by the semi-retarded post I wrote that morning. His very presence was unnerving, especially when he was all cuddled up around my legs. I finally shook free of him and told him that if he was going to stay in there with me, he needed to behave.
We ended up sitting side by side on the bed watching episodes of Absolutely Fabulous on R-man's computer. Maniac joined us at some point and we passed the pipe around until I decided that it was time for me to get the fuck home. The sun had come up and it was like tweeker Kryptonite, I always lose my high after the sun rises. No matter how much speed I shoot/smoke, I can never regain my good humor after sunrise. R-man says that it's a sign that I'm not really suited to the "up" way of life. A true speed freak is down to get geeked any time, day or night or at least that's what he says. I think he is more than qualified to make that statement.
So that's it, I finally got it done! Blood, sweat and tears woven into a brilliantly constructed recollection of my latest excursion with the meth savant and his band of miscreants.
Happy Friday and I will be back next week....sometime...probably. I love all y'all motherfuckers, even the ones who wish I would drop dead on the street, that's just the kind of girl I am. know the kind I mean.
This is Melody Lee signing out.